Careers Week
by wildpeace
Summary: Set in an imaginary S3, the Glee kids tackle interviews with Miss Pillsbury, a new Glee assignment and their own uncertain futures. Ensemble. Mike/Tina.


3x04. **Careers Week**.

Previously on Glee...

Even though they lost Nationals after some ill-timed mackage, the New Directions are back for their senior year. Mike and Tina spent the summer being the world's most inappropriate counselors and getting their frolic on all over Asian Camp. Meanwhile, Santana and Brittany embraced their inner lesbos on Lesbos, and after a whole summer of their friends trolling their dates, Mercedes and Sam finally decided to come out of the relationship closet. Also, Sue had a change of heart so the Glee Club Cheerios are back on the team, but none of them are Captain so that's better right. Right? So that's what you missed on...Glee!

XxX

" It seriously looks like someone vomited crepe paper in here."

They've been back at school for a month. Tans are mostly faded, highlights dulled and summer highs long gone. Everyone's just about settled into the year's routine - their classes, clubs, friends - but for the Seniors, the coming of October means just one thing: Career's Week. Which also - for some unknown reason, understood only by the 'school spirit' committee - means the hallways being festooned in bunting and posters of internships, colleges and universities all trying to scream their superiority to anyone that passed. It's enough to make anyone shudder.

Tina, herself, can't hold her distaste back. A tremour wracks her body and her boyfriend, walking next to her, squeezes her hand lightly and shoots her an amused smile.

" Well I'm just grateful that I've had my career mapped out since I was four," Rachel pipes up, clasping her star-motif notebook to her chest. " I intend to use my meeting time with Miss Pillsbury to solidify my choice of audition songs. I mean, I've been practicing since I was ten, but I think she'll be a much more receptive audience than my Cabbage Patch kids."

Reaching her locker, Tina fiddles with the combination, Mike leaning up against the cold metal next to her. " What meeting with Miss Pillsbury?" she asks, shoving her backpack inside and reaching instead for her World History binder.

It's not Rachel who answers, but instead, she hears a voice from behind her. " Career's meetings yo," Artie pipes up as he rolls alongside them, wheels on his chair flashing like a mini disco. " For college applications, credits, advice on financial aid. She let's you know if you've got any hope of getting in or whether you're going to be stuck working the grill at Chicken Lickin'."

" I love that place," Mike can't help but smile, making Tina roll her eyes and shake her head, amused.

Brushing a loose piece of hair back from her face, she shuts the locker door and turns to her friend. " What are you thinking about doing?" she asks curiously.

" Film," Artie answers brightly, and Tina can't help but smile in return as the four of them travel down the hall. " Boston has a really exciting program."

Rachel's voice is loud and piercing, and she strides next to Artie with her head held high. " Well as you all know, I'm applying to the Tisch School of the Arts in New York. Famous alumni include Woody Allen, Broadway star Idina Menzel and - "

" Lady Gaga herself," Kurt cuts in as he catches up with the group, his messenger bag swinging over his shoulder and a broad smile on his face. " Couldn't help but overhear. It's my number one choice too."

They reach the end of the corridor, where Rachel and Artie peel off left for Geometry waving and promising to catch up in Glee rehearsal. Kurt lingers, waiting for Tina so they can go to World History, while she and Mike say goodbye.

They lean into each other, lips pressing together, fingers still intertwined. For a moment, it's like the two of them are completely alone, even though Tina can see Kurt's Italian leather loafer tapping impatiently out of the corner of her eye. She pulls back, reluctantly. " See you in Glee?"

" I'll save you a seat," Mike promises, kissing her quickly again before heading up the stairs to English.

Kurt takes one look at her and sighs, looping his arm through hers. " You two are so ridiculously in love it actually makes me a little nauseous," he tells her, but the smile on his face and the way he bumps his shoulder against hers takes any sting out of his words. " Now come on my Mistress of the Night, Anne Boleyn waits for no one."

XxX

Glee rehearsal is bubbling with talk of college and meetings and far-off cities, and as Tina slides onto the chair next to Mike at the back of the room, she raises her eyebrows. " Ten bucks says Mr Schue's assignment is about careers."

He laughs, shaking his head. " I don't take sucker bets."

His hair is still damp from Gym - his last class of the day - and she can't help but lean in closer, fingering the cowlicky tendrils. " Even if I make it worth your while?"

Eyebrows are raised and he's just opened his mouth to reply when Mr Schue strides into the room, a dry wipe marker in one hand. He waits while everyone takes their seats, Santana and Brittany pinkie-linked in their Cheerios uniform.

(Sue had offered the three girls amnesty following their roles in her sister's funeral, though she had made good on her promise to Becky Jackson of becoming Head Cheerleader. When Tina had spoken to Santana about it the girl had just shrugged - "It's actually better this way. We get to be in the team but we're not fighting against each other to be Queen Bee. Plus, I look totally smokin' in the uniform.")

Mercedes and Sam sit together, still in the middle of a conversation that leaves both of them smiling and Kurt laughing, and Rachel drags Finn by the hand into an empty seat before looking up at Mr Schue expectantly.

Their teacher leans against the piano, looking out into the risers at his motley band of students who quickly wind down their conversations. Crossing his arms over his sweater-vest clad chest, he opens his mouth. " Where do you see yourself in five years?"

Brittany is the first to answer, her smile bright. " The mirror."

There's an awkward pause, and then Rachel puts in, " Playing Eva Peron on Broadway."

" Married to a rich, old cougar," Puck grins, mostly joking, before giving Artie a fist-bump.

" Debuting my line at Paris fashion week," Mercedes adds with a smile. " Completely fresh and fierce."

" Cover of Vogue," Santana pipes up, barely pausing in filing her nails. " Or Playboy."

Mr Schue looks a little taken aback at the answers (though really, Tina wonders, what exactly was he expecting to hear?) and so just turns around and heads towards his ubiquitous white board, where he writes two words: GROWING UP. Then he turns around slowly, and faces them. " You've all come a long way from the first time we sat in this room together. And now you're Seniors, this is it. Your victory lap, your last hurrah."

" Way to bring me down," Sam mumbles in the back of the room, causing those sitting closest to him to chuckle and Mercedes to rub his knee in sympathy.

" What I'm saying," Mr Schuester cuts in, raising his voice over the laughter, " is that after this year, you're never going to be in this place, with these people again. These friends that you've grown up with." He can't help but pause and smile fondly as the members of his Glee club acknowledge each other with fleeting touches and grins. " So I want you to spend this week finding a song that really sums up where you are in your life. How you feel about your past, and about the future, about getting older."

There's an instant buzz in the room as Kurt dives for his ipod, grabbing Rachel by the arm and the two of them bend their heads together over the small item throwing song names and artists into the open air like confetti. Puck wanders over, picking up a guitar and strumming a few chords, and after a moment Finn joins him at the drums, brushing his sticks across the high hat in a complimentary rhythm. The others half listen, half ignore, conversations wrapping around and intermingling as heads turn and catch words and fragments.

Tina simply sits, tapping her fingers against her notebook, causing her boyfriend to turn from where he has been listening to Brittany and Santana discuss the Spice Girls. " You know what you want to sing?" he asks, bumping her knee with his own, watching how the ruffles on her skirt wave and ebb like the tide.

She looks up at him, calm but thoughtful. " No," she admits simply. " Do you?"

His shoulders rise in a shrug, and he laughs lightly. " I'll probably find out what everyone else is going to do and see which one is best suited to my free-styling," he explains, popping and locking his arms so they wave before him.

They spend the rest of the hour talking about songs and doodling in her notebook, and at one point Brittany grabs Mike and the two of them start waltzing around the room like it's the most natural thing in the room, and Santana throws herself onto the chair next to Tina, flinging her legs over the other girls lap, and shoots her an exasperated look like 'how did we end up with these two crazies?'. But then her eyes lock with Brittany's and her face lights up, and Tina thinks maybe being with someone a little eccentric isn't like, the worst thing in the world.

When Mr Schue lets them out of practice they all disperse in twos and threes across the parking lot. Tina hears the sound of Brittany's motorbike starting up, and watches Santana throw her head back and laugh as she swings her leg over the seat, her arms going around the blonde girl's waist and holding tight. Quinn, Mercedes and Sam slide into Quinn's red corvette, Sam cursing as he almost bangs his head on the door frame, and Kurt and Finn hop into Kurt's Navigator, the former waving exuberantly as the latter fiddles with the radio. Artie, Puck and Rachel wait around for Artie's dad, sending everyone else off with a wave as Mike and Tina walk across the lot to his much loved, much beaten up Honda.

He holds the door open for her - something that makes her roll her eyes, but after a year she knows it's not a chauvinist thing but just a *Mike* thing - she's even seen him hold the door for Puck. So she just pats his shoulder and slides into the passenger seat, throwing her backpack into the seat behind her. Mike runs around the car - long limbs making it a short trip - and slips the key into the ignition before he's fully sat down.

" You want me to drop you home?" Mike asks, turning the key so the radio starts. It blares a few bars of country before Tina and Mike both curse and reach for the dial, her fingers reaching it first and switching the station. When Pink Floyd comes on they both sigh in relief.

Tina leans back in her seat, looking up at the sky through the windscreen. Being Fall, the sun is already setting and the sky is streaked with crimson and gold.

She licks her lips, slowly. " My Mom's teaching an evening class tonight, and my Dad's still in Phoenix," she tells him, reaching across the gear shift and resting her hand on his denim-clad leg. " You want to come over?"

Mike shoots her a grin, even as her fingers twitch on his thigh. " I have a Chemistry test tomorrow," he tells her, but she knows his resolve is rocky. They haven't had an evening alone together for almost a week and that morning's quickie in the Art supply closet had been interrupted halfway through by a very surprised Freshman, leaving Mike horribly flustered and Tina just frustrated.

She leans over, pressing her ruby-red lips against the corner of his mouth. " I can teach you about chemistry," she purrs into his skin, half-alluring, half-giggling. Her hand slides further up his leg.

" Tina, I'm driving," he yelps, but he's laughing, and the music winds between the two of them, a low, thrumming pulse.

Relenting, she leans back, returning to her seat, but doesn't move her hand. She drums her fingers against him, humming along to the radio. " But you'll stay, right?"

He can't help but look over at her, a shy smile on his face. " Yeah, of course I will."

XxX

Tina's bedroom is a perfect reflection of her personality. The intricate wrought iron bedstead stands in the corner of the room, magenta and white sheets stretched across the over-plump double mattress. Rock, indy and punk posters are tacked up on the wall between pictures of her friends, from Kindergarten to the present, and Mike sees many familiar smiles and grins staring back at him. Including his own. A keyboard is wedged in the corner by the bathroom door, headphones abandoned on top of the plastic ivory keys, and books are stacked precariously on her shelves. A large print of Hopper's 'Morning Sun' hangs above her bed, and a rainbow array of discarded clothes are scattered across it. She shoves them to the floor before she flops onto the mattress, pulling Mike with her.

It's funny, because Tina is always so organised when it comes to school and work and stuff, and so Mike likes seeing her in her own habitat, where papers get randomly stacked on top of the stereo and she can only ever find one earring. He feels almost honoured that he gets to see her like this, so unguarded.

She lays under him, allowing him to kiss her cheeks and her neck and her shoulders, left bare by the straps of her lacy red tank top. Her own hands roam over the muscles of his back, creeping between the waistband of his jeans and the bottom of his t-shirt, skating over the warm, bare skin that they find.

" Did you finish your UCLA application?" he murmurs between kisses, his large hands sliding under her black ra-ra skirt and up the back of her bare thighs.

She nods her head, licking a trail up his neck and nibbling at his pulse. " This morning in Study Hall."

The application for the Poly-Sci and Women's Studies course at UCLA had started off as a simple essay about her feminist idols, but had, somehow along the way, become almost a treatise on friendship. She'd realised when writing it that the women around her were the ones that truly inspired her; friends who struggled with different issues and still were strong, brilliant women.

She wrote about Mercedes, who doesn't look the way society thinks she should but sings like she has fire burning inside her, and Rachel, who tries to find the balance between her love of her career and her love of men. She wrote about Quinn, who had somehow found herself dealing with the biggest mistake of her life and who'd been strong and *so* brave, and has become a better person for it. She'd written about Brittany and Santana, about not conforming to the stereotype, about being courageous enough as women to stand up and say who you are and who you love, even if people will judge you for it. Finally, Tina had written about herself. About the girl who had faked a stutter and coloured her hair, trying to stand out and blend it at the same time, and about her desire to help other girls and women realise that they are perfect just the way they are.

" Can I read it?" he asks, pulling her upright with him and fiddling with the zipper on the back of her skirt, sliding it down the small of her back and over the curve of her ass.

She shimmies out of the ruffled material, kicking it off her shapely legs, before swinging off the bed. She extricates herself from his grip, going over to her backpack and pulling her notebook out. " I still need to type it up," she warns, because her handwriting is scrawled, half in pencil and half in biro, with little sketches and doodles around the outside. He notices Kurt's looped handwriting immediately - Cafe apres Francais? Oui ou non? - and a little heart with both their initials inside.

Mike moves off the bed too, taking a seat at Tina's desk chair, looking focused and serious as he puts the notebook flat before him. He rests his chin in his palm as he begins to read.

She moves around the room in her panties and tank top, picking up her scattered items of clothing and hanging them back neatly in her closet as he reads. She hums to herself - something that sounds remarkably like 'True Colours' - sashaying her hips back and forth as her bare feet pad across the hardwood floor.

She's just arranging her accessories on her dresser - separating the chains and putting the rings into her ornate glass jewellery box - when she is stopped by just one word.

" Wow."

Mike is sitting at the desk, his fingers clutching the lined paper and his face awash with a look that Tina can't quite read. It's something like confusion and something like surprise.

Slowly, she sets the bracelet she has been fiddling with down, and turns to face him. " Good wow or bad wow?"

Tina's known Mike since they were five, and they've been dating for over a year, but she's still surprised when he launches himself out of the chair and picks her up, spinning her around her room. Her feet dangle half a foot off the ground. " That," he begins, punctuating each word with a kiss. " Was. Amazing." He holds her tight against him, and she can feel his pulse beating against her own chest.

" Really?" she asks, the words a mumble against his lips as he devours her mouth, his hands on her back pressing her hard against him.

He pulls back just enough to breathe, his hands sliding up her sides, brushing the edge of her breasts. " Tina, if there is ever a moment where someone questions what you want to do with your life, please show them this," he entreats. " It's smart, and funny, and well-written," he smiles, " and makes me realise how lucky I am."

" Lucky?"

" I have all these amazing women in my life. These smart, strong women. And above all, I have you."

His smile is wide and honest, and even in the waning light it brightens up his whole face. Tina can't help but grab the bottom of her tank top, pulling it above her head and throwing it onto her desk. She grabs the hem of his shirt, pulling it up - giggling when his chin gets caught - and tosses it aside before winding her arms around his neck. " You are the sweetest man," she grins, feeling her heart beating hard in her chest. She wonders if he can feel it too. " And *I'm* lucky to have you."

" We're both lucky," he grins, compromising, rubbing his thumb along the black cotton edge of her panties in a way that makes her squirm into his touch.

Hands on his shoulders, she leads him backwards, slowly, slowly, until the backs of his knees hit the mattress. With a gentle push he sits down, laughing, scooting back just slightly so she has room to straddle him. Her knees sink into the soft comforter and she arches her back, lifting her breasts towards him.

He leans down, moving her bra strap off her shoulder with his mouth, and she shudders as his teeth scrape against her skin. When he does the same thing on the other side - leaving both breasts exposed to the cool autumn air - she giggles for a moment before his tongue licks across her heated skin. Then her giggles turn to sighs, and her fingers are at his waistband, and then pulling his jeans down, and they do a complicated half-balance, half-hop as they divest themselves of the rest of their clothes and crawl onto the bed. Their lips are together, apart and together again.

Palms skim sweat-slick skin, words are whispered and murmured as fingers and lips touch and tease. He traces the shadow of her ribs, the curve of her hip, the gentle dip of her belly button, before his hands search lower and she groans against his mouth. " God," she keens as his fingers twist and rub.

He chuckles against her skin, biting gently, holding her tight when her body begins to shake and she curses in Korean.

As she calms, skin cooling, he rests her against her floral pillows trailing kisses down her face and neck.

" I love you," he tells her, nuzzling her collarbone, nipping lightly and then soothing the pinch with his tongue. " All day, every day. Even when I'm an old man and you have to yell at me to turn on my hearing aids and put my teeth in."

She laughs, curling her body around him like a question mark. " And when you have to remind me of our grand-children's names."

" And when I break a hip trying to do a back flip."

" And when I take my last breath," she promises, resting her forehead against his. " I'll love you."

That's the way they stay, bodies entwined, sweat cooling, staring at the last beams of sun as they dance across the ceiling, sharing lazy kisses.

Well, that's how they stay until Tina pushes herself up and flips them over, so his back is against the mattress and she's straddling his hips. She reaches into the nightstand, pulling out a small, blue square and danging it from her fingers. Rocking her hips, she shoots him a wicked grin. " Payback's a bitch, Mr Chang."

XxX

The next day Tina walks into school with a spring in her step, the skirt of her vintage navy-blue polka-dotted sundress swishing around her knees and red ribbon twisted with her hair into two french braids. Mercedes spots her first, chatting with Santana on the front steps. " Lookin' good girl," she grins, waving her over, giving her the elevator up-and-down. " Someone's been reading this month's Cosmo."

Tina can't help but grin, clutching her backpack to her chest. " I'm getting bored of black," she admits with a half shrug. " And I want to enjoy dresses while the weather's still good enough."

Santana, looking fierce and pristine in her Cheerio's uniform - tanned legs, nipped in waist, perfect ponytail - eyes Tina with something like suspicion. The look quickly melts into a knowing grin. " You had sex," she states, waggling a perfectly manicured finger in Tina's direction. The Asian girl goes to argue, but Santana cuts her off with a raised palm. " You can deny it as much as you like, but if Auntie 'Tana knows one thing, it's post-coital buzz." She arches an eyebrow, smirking gently. " Will the Changster be able to walk today?"

" I hope so," Tina smirks back, allowing Santana to loop their arms together. " He has football practice today and I don't think Coach Bieste will take kindly to any excuses."

" Yeah, especially not 'my girlfriend rode me so hard I think she dislocated my pelvis'," Santana throws back, and Mercedes' booming laugh fills the hallways as they enter it, making a couple Sophomore's turn and frown at them curiously until Santana throws a glare in their direction and they scuttle off to their lockers. " Seriously," she continues, folding her arms across her chest. " You two are like crazy nymphos. How you find the time to eat and sleep is beyond me."

" We multitask," Tina grins in return, automatically flinching when a Junior guys walks past with a slushy. He just gives her a weird look and sucks some cherry liquid up the straw. She shakes it off and turns to Santana with a wry smile. " Besides, you think we don't know you and Brit are going at it every chance you get? You cock-blocked me out of the Library on Tuesday. Me and Mike had to go to Plan B."

A year ago, Tina could never have imagined Santana blushing, but that's exactly what she does. Her cheeks flush pink and she clears her throat, looking around to see how many people might have overheard. " We were studying," she explains. " And...perhaps...got carried away."

" Looked that way to me," Tina grins, and Mercedes just carries on laughing, shaking her head at the two of them.

They're saved from any further talk of private things when Finn strides up to them, a piece of paper in his hands. " Hey," he greets, oblivious to the way they still giggle and Mercedes is wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. " Any of you seen Rachel?"

All three girls shrug. " Not this morning, why?"

Finn holds up the paper, and all three girls have to raise their chins to look at it. " Miss Pillsbury set her careers meeting for today and I want to make sure she knows," he explains and then looks at the paper again. " Oh, Tina, yours is today too."

" I can see," she acknowledges, taking a biro from her backpack and scribbling the time on a spare corner of her notebook. She calculates that it'll be halfway through Home-Ec. " Have you guys had yours yet?"

Both girls shake their heads. " Mine's tomorrow," Mercedes explains. " Cohen-Chang before Jones."

" Mine too," Santana agrees with a shrug. " Lopez. At least I get out of Calculus. But I think Quinn has hers last period or something."

Tina takes all of this on board, but inwardly curses herself for having a surname at the top of the alphabet. While she has no particular problem meeting with Miss Pillsbury - she's always been nice enough, if a little odd - she'd rather know exactly what she's getting into before she walks into the office. Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the bell ringing.

Mercedes swings her purple purse on to her elbow and waves at them with a wiggle of her fingers. " Art," she says with a smile, heading down the hallway towards the stairs. " Catch you ladies later."

People are moving down the hall with pace and purpose, but neither Santana or Tina move. Instead, Tina just leans up against the lockers. " San...You don't really see yourself on the cover of Playboy do you?" she asks, curious about her words from yesterday's meeting, the metal of the door cold against her bare shoulders.

Santana just gives a shrug. " I don't know." Her voice is soft but she raises her chin. " Brit...Brittany might not get into college," she admits, avoiding Tina's eyes, her own gaze darting to the left. " So either I let the girls out of their cage and pay our way out of this Hell hole, or I find some pervy old sugar daddy to do it for me. Because I am not sticking around."

It's the fierceness in her words, and the hurt, that has Tina reaching out and taking her hand. " You are *going* to get out of here," she says with confidence. " You *and* Brittany, and you don't have to get your boobs out to do it. Not unless you *want* to, of course," she says with a grin, making Santana break into a small smile. Then, tugging the other girl's hand, she pulls her down the hallway towards their Social Studies class. They bump shoulders, Tina's navy skirt swishing against Santana's red one. " You're gonna be awesome, Santana, whatever you decide to do. You've got all of us behind you."

They pause by the classroom door, and Santana scuffs the toe of her white sneaker against the ground. " Tina, I gotta say..." she pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath, and Tina's shocked because she looks truly moved. But then her face contorts into a wicked grin. " You are *such* a pussy!"

Tina shoves her shoulder, and they both laugh, and as Miss Glover hurries them into the room, they can't help but grin at each other.

XxX

Glee meets second period on a Tuesday, and so they're quickly all back together again in the choir room. Tina doesn't miss the smirk that Santana shoots Mike as she passes by to sit behind him, leaving the seat next to him free. Tina just shakes her head at Mike's confused expression. " Apparently I am 'alight with the glow of post-coital bliss'," she quotes in a monotone.

His eyebrows rise towards his hairline. " I'm assuming those aren't Santana's words?"

" I cleaned them up a little."

" Right."

There's already a cacophony filling the room. Brad and Puck are scooting the piano back as Finn dusts his brushes across the cymbals, tightens the snare, and Santana and Mercedes are practicing a booty-shaking move on the second tier as Brittany ties her hair back and whoops and Sam just watches on with his hands laced behind his head. Quinn, Rachel and Artie are huddled over his Social Studies notebook - comparing homework answers - and Kurt is texting on his phone so fast that his thumbs seem to blur. Tina - based on the sappy smile on his face - assumes it's Blaine.

The uproar settles as Mr Schue walks in, and everyone wends their way to their seats.

" Our first performance of the week," he introduces without preamble. " Finn Hudson and Noah Puckerman!"

Everyone applauds politely as Puck pulls his guitar over his shoulder and rests his fingers on the neck. " My girl Lauren's out this week visiting schools - they all want her to wrestle for them so bad they're treating her like a queen - so I've turned to my boy Finn to rock with." The two of them share a manly nod across their instruments. " Ready?"

The drums start first, a pounding, soft-rock beat that has everyone moving in their seats, and Puck's strumming starts seconds later. He throws his head back to sing, " I got my first real six string, bought it at the five and dime. Played it til my fingers bled, was the Summer of '69."

Finn drums with passion, nodding his head as he sings the second verse. " Me and some guys from school, had a band and we tried real hard. Jimmy quit and Jodie got married, should've known we'd never get far." Tina can't help but smile, clapping her hands together as their voices sing out and then intermingle in the bridge and chorus, sounding gravelly and masculine and perfect for this kind of soft-rock.

It's one of those songs that infects the group - soon Rachel is up and jumping in her ballet flats, and Santana and Brittany are free-styling in front of the piano - and then Mike grabs Tina's hand and pulls her up, and she's spinning under his arm with laughter, and then they're all singing the words - 'Man we were killing time, we were young and restless, and needed to unwind' - and it's a joyous *wall* of sound.

The boys finish with a flourish of the guitar and a downbeat on the drums, and everyone collapses into cheers and applause, and Puck and Finn laugh and take a bow, and Mr Schue is applauding.

" Great job guys! That's a *great* start to our week."

Pointing out to the rest of them he grins an obvious challenge. " The rest of you are going to have your work cut out for you to top that!"

Tina sees Kurt and Rachel share a look, and Santana raise her chin in defiance, and knows that the challenge has been accepted.

XxX

Tina races down the hall, her braids flying like banners behind her, cursing into the empty halls. She had set her phone to remind her of her meeting with Miss Pillsbury, but Brittany, Home-Ec, buttery fingers and an exploding bag of flour had meant that she was not only running late, but streaked with enough white powder that she looked like a senior citizen with a serious Coke habit.

Skidding to a stop outside the guidance counselor's glass-paneled door, Tina brushes furiously at her dress, trying to dislodge the last grains of flour. It drifts to the floor like a tiny snowstorm and she cringes, imagining the look of panic in Miss Pillsbury's eyes when she notices the mess.

" Tina?" the voice is a little concerned, and as Tina looks up she sees the impeccably dressed Miss Pillsbury staring at her, her large eyes open wide and curious. An amber brooch glitters at the apex of her sweater and she has one knee cocked. " Is everything okay?"

Blowing a loose piece of hair out of her face, Tina nods her head, picking up her bag. " I thought I was late," she explains, looping the strap over her shoulder, ignoring the way it makes her neon 'anarchy' pin dig into her skin. " There was a Home-Ec emergency."

" Nothing's on fire is it?" Miss Pillsbury asks - her tone truly worried - ushering Tina into the room and pointing at the empty chair across the desk before taking her own seat. She straightens the file in front of her until it is at perfect right angles with her name plaque.

Shaking her head, Tina smooths her polka-dotted skirt down nervously. " No fire. Just...Brittany."

Miss Pillsbury nods her head in understanding, before folding her hands on the top of the desk. She clears her throat in a way that makes Tina jump, just slightly. " So it's been a while since we've chatted," she starts genially, cocking her head to the side and pasting on a broad smile.

Tina presses the soles of her feet hard against the floor and twists her ring around her finger in an absent-minded habit she's picked up since their return from New York (and Mike's gifting of it to her). She doesn't like thinking about the time when she was forced to come and visit the Guidance Counselor once a week - first when she was a child so nervous and unsettled that she suffered from a stutter, and later when she was a pathological attention seeker who revealed she didn't have a speech problem at all. She remembers with painful clarity the whole array of Miss Pillsbury's sympathetic expressions and attempts at understanding.

Tina nods her head, avoiding the bush-baby eyes. " Not since last year."

" How have you been doing?"

It's a seemingly innocuous question, but Tina knows it has teeth, so she takes a beat before answering and hitches a smile onto her lips. " Good." It's not a lie, not even anywhere close to a falsehood, but she knows it looks that way. She hates second guessing every facial expression, every word, every movement of her body and forces herself still. " Glee Club are doing songs about our future this week and Santana's asked me to help with her selection and it's really different because it's got this country vibe but - "

" Actually," Miss Pillsbury interrupts, twirling with a pencil between her fingers. " Tina, I want to know how *you're* doing." There's a pause as Tina tries to regroup, her fingers spread flat against her knees, and Miss Pillsbury is the first one to fill the silence. " Are you and Mike still dating?" she asks, eyes wide, and Tina can feel her stomach flip.

" Yes," she replies automatically, clipped, her fingers grasping at her skirt.

" That's been a while now." It's a half-statement, half-question, so Tina feels prompted to answer.

She nods her head slowly. " Over a year," she elaborates, and she can't help the tiny smile that creeps across her lips at the thought of her boyfriend. Before the Home-Economic disaster they had been sending a pretty steamy stream of texts, planning a lunchtime rendezvous behind the bleachers.

Miss Pillsbury clearly sees the smile, and thinks she's made some headway with gaining Tina's trust, because she angles her body just slightly forward. " So have you talked to him about Tisch?"

Tina's eyebrows rise. " Tisch?"

The folder on the desk between them seems to gain both their focus, and Miss Pillsbury slowly opens it. " When we last spoke about your future that seemed to be a pretty big focus," she reminds the younger girl. " I thought maybe with Kurt and Rachel heading that way you'd have made some arrangements to share an apartment or something?"

It seems odd to hear her old life plans spoken back to her in such earnest tones, and Tina can't help but shake her head. Her braids bob against her shoulders. " Uh...Miss Pillsbury? I'm not going to New York."

There's a long pause, and Miss Pillsbury crosses her legs, the material of her pencil skirt swishing around her knees. She tents her fingers and Tina can't help but stare at the perfectly manicured nails before scowling at her own chipped black polish.

Miss Pillsbury's mouth forms a perfect 'o' before she springs into action. " Do you need help looking at some other colleges? I know Florida and Indiana have interesting theatre courses, but there's also Ohio State if you're thinking of somewhere closer to home. I mean, with your GPA and extra-curricular activities I'm sure there are lots of schools that would jump at the chance to have you." She turns to her cabinet, fingers flicking quickly through the files as she speaks, before stilling her hands and looking back at the dark haired girl. " Tina, is there a reason you don't want to go to New York anymore?"

She's had this conversation with Mike, with her parents, with some of her friends; she feels like she's explained herself more times than any one person should have to. She clenches her jaw. " I'm not interested in being a performer anymore," she says evenly, not prepared to elaborate. " And actually I've already decided where I want to go to college."

" Oh." Miss Pillsbury spins her chair back around slowly, looking at Tina with a curious smile. " Where are you thinking?"

At this question, Tina brightens up. " Los Angeles," she smiles. " The University of California has a great Women's Studies program."

Tina may not have been expecting applause or congratulations, but she was at least expecting a smile. What she did *not* expect was the hesitant, tiny clearing of the throat and what she called in her head, 'Pillsbury expression in sympathy #6'.

" Tina... you know I met with Mike earlier?"

Of course she does, she understands how the alphabet works even if she and Mike *hadn't* been texting all morning. " Yes," is all she says.

" And you know he's also looking at UCLA?"

" Yes," Tina replies, hesitant, and finds herself twisting her ring around her finger, the afternoon light glinting off the bright, delicate stone.

She realises that Miss Pillsbury has noticed - has seen the ring and made *completely* the wrong assumption - when she folds her hands on the desk.

" Tina, I think we should talk."

XxX

At the front of the choir room, Santana stands, wringing her hands and pacing back and forth. Her white sneakered heels bounce up and down on the hard tiles as Mr Schue congregates the rest of the group, and in the melee no one notices that Tina is missing. No one except Mike, who frowns as he checks his watch, and then his phone. There's no email, no text message, no missed call, and he can't help but side-eye the door, even as Mr Schue begins to speak.

" Well, everybody, I have to say I'm impressed with the effort you guys have put into these performances," he grins, straightening his tie and rolling his sleeves up in deference to the lingering Fall warmth. " And despite our conversation last meeting, it seems like some of you do have some great plans for the future. Like our own Quinn Fabray, who's been given early acceptance to Georgetown!"

Everybody applauds, and Quinn blushes, covering her eyes with her hand even as Rachel sneak-attack hugs from the next seat, making her laugh. " Communication major," Quinn elaborates, once Rachel has untangled her arms. " Being a reformed sinner applying to a Catholic university looks pretty good on their books," she says with a shrug, as though to brush off the accolade, but they can all see the pride in her face.

They're all chattering at once, questions and congratulations, when Tina comes bustling into the room, her backpack clutched tight to her chest. " Sorry I'm late," she mutters at Mr Schue as she passes, keeping her chin tucked to her chest, but Mike can see the redness rimming her eyes. She slides into the empty seat next to him.

" Are you alright?" he whispers, reaching out to touch her shoulder, but she just shakes her head.

" Let's talk later," she requests softly, wiping at her eyes with the back of her wrist, hitching a smile onto her lips. " Okay?"

Mike just nods, taking her hand gently and turning to face the front of the room, where Mr Schue is deferring to Santana. The brunette hesitantly steps to the front of the room, and she opens and closes her mouth a couple times before speaking.

" So I know I usually rock the Indy like a boss," she begins with her chin held high, defiant, but a definite waver in her voice. " But I... I've been thinking about the future, and about what I want to do, you know, when I blow this Popsicle stand." She cocks her head, her tight ponytail flipping over her shoulder, and for a moment there's a flash of the old Santana - haughty, superior, cold and closed. But then her eyes land on the blonde in the front row, and the open, loving gaze she doesn't even try to hide, and Santana's icy expression begins to melt. " And I think maybe I want more than a panty shot on the cover of a top shelf rag. Maybe I deserve more."

Looking at Brittany, she crooks a finger into the audience, and at once Sam jumps from his seat, bounding down the steps two at a time and grabbing his guitar. Santana clears her throat but doesn't tear her gaze from Brittany's blue eyes. " Sam agreed to help me so I can...say this. To you."

There's a long pause, and for a moment Santana looks uncomfortable - so unused to sharing herself and her feelings in public - but then she nods at Sam and he begins to play, and she sways on the spot, first with her chin dipped down, but then as she takes a deep breath and sings the first lines, she holds her head up, obviously terrified but undeniably strong.

" She said, I was seven and you were nine, I looked at you like the stars that shined in the sky, the pretty lights. And our daddies used to joke about the two of us, growing up and falling in love, and our mamas smiled, and rolled their eyes and said oh my my my."

Santana's eyes don't leave Brittany's and Brittany gazes right back, her blue eyes filmed with tears and a grin blossoming over her face. The rest of the group share smiles - knowing smiles and proud smiles and loving smiles - and sway to the gentle country-esque melody.

Then Sam's voice joins in with the chorus and Mercedes is grinning and Kurt rests his head on her shoulder, and they both watch as their friends perform together in the front of the room.

Santana only falters at one moment, when she's staring at Brittany as she sings the words, " Well, I was sixteen when suddenly, I wasn't that little girl you used to see." Her voice almost breaks, but she clenches her firsts and powers on, spinning on her heel, dancing around the room as Sam strums the rhythm, upbeat and driving and the words pour from her.

Everyone's dancing in their seat, and Santana finally stops next to the piano - with Brad looking on, a small smile hiding under his beard - and she holds onto the smooth wood with one hand, the other clutched to her stripy-shirted chest as she belts out the final line. " I'll be eighty-seven; and you'll be mine, I'll still look at you like the stars that shine in the sky, oh my my my." Her vibrato holds the note, trailing off in a way that leaves it resonating around the room.

Applause breaks over the group like a thunderclap.

Brittany jumps up from her seat, wrapping her arms around Santana's neck before the girl even has a chance to get her breath back, and then - in a flash - their lips are pressed together, and everyone spins to look at Mr Schue, because while they all knew this relationship had been going on since the summer, they're pretty sure their teacher didn't. This is despite the song's lyrics and all the obvious eye contact.

Unsurprisingly, Mr Schue's face immediately registers shock before he coughs and schools his expression into something less bowled over. " Okay!" he pipes up, ushering the girls back to their seats - and ignoring the way Brittany's hand lingers on Santana's ass - " Santana, wow, way to work outside of your comfort zone!" he congratulates, and the proud smile on Santana's face is small but honest. Brittany squeezes her knee with a grin.

" The rest of you," he points out into the seats, where the rest of the Glee club sit, his voice loud and exuberant. " The bar has been raised!"

XxX

The morning comes around again and Tina walks through the doors of the school with none of her spring from the day before. She passes by Santana, Brittany and Quinn chatting next to their lockers.

" I thought you were bored with black?" Santana calls over the din of the other students, pausing long enough in conversation to throw a confused frown Tina's way.

Tina stares down at her clothes - black jeans, black t-shirt, black and silver beads around her neck, heavy boots and a knee-length black sweater belted at her waist - " I guess it's back," she throws back as a reply, not even trying for levity.

She's just passed the stairway when she hears her name being called in a very familiar voice. " Tina!"

Mike takes the stairs two at a time, his impossibly long legs bounding like a baby gazelle, and his hand brushes her elbow. " I called you six times last night, were you ever gonna' call me back?"

She doesn't stop walking, but he falls into step next to her. " I was busy," she says with a shrug, but it's unconvincing.

" Busy doing what?"

Her tone is clipped, brusque, and coupled with a shrug as a pack of Freshmen Cheerios barge past, their exuberance a clear sign of their youth. " Whatever. Homework, studying, avoiding my Mom so I didn't have to spend the night helping her make macrame owls again."

" Hey," he stops her with a hand on her shoulder, the wool of her sweater rough against his palm. " You want to tell me what's got you so wound up?" His voice is gentle but direct, and he stares at her hard. He brushes his index finger under her chin, tipping her head up by a fraction. " Your rosacea's acting up."

She presses a hand against her cheek, embarrassed that he's noticed the flush across her face, but sighs. " It's Miss Pillsbury," she finally admits.

Her words are met with a look of confusion. " Miss Pillsbury?"

" She wants me to look at other colleges besides UCLA." Tina fiddles with the strap of her bag.

Mike shoves his hands in the pockets of his letter jacket, rocking back and forth on his heels, his neon green Cons peeking out from beneath the bottom of his jeans. " Why?"

Tina's expression is one of frustration, of some feeling taut and low-bubbling inside of her. " Because she thinks I could get in. Because Harvard's Kennedy School does a great course in Public Policy and how to decrease the gender gap, Dartmouth is small but forward thinking, and Columbia is really starting to lead in Women's Studies. And...I would be in New York and could live with Rachel and Kurt and Blaine and commute in to school."

The words make sense, so Mike's a little confused as to why Tina's eyes are burgeoning with tears as she delivers them. Her lashes are inky and wet. " Okay," he says, feeling his forehead crinkle into a frown. " If you want to look at them, Tina, that's fine."

" No it's not!" she bites with a hiccup, throwing her hands in the air. " Don't you get it?" He's dumbfounded, taken aback and completely lost, and she can clearly read it in his face because she brushes her loose hair back from her face.

" Mike, that's *not* why she wants me to look at them at all."

XxX

Mr Schuester is thumbing through sheet music, making notes in the margins when he feels a presence next to him. Putting down his half-drunk coffee, he looks up to find Emma standing over him.

" Hi," he greets, smiling.

" Hi," she replies, half-smiling back and fiddling with the beads at her neck. " Can we talk, for a minute?"

He can tell she's got something serious on her mind because when he waves her into the opposite seat she doesn't even wipe off the chair before she sits down. Instead, she just clasps her hands together. " So, you know I've been having meetings with the Senior kids this week?"

Picking up his coffee, he takes a sip, wincing slightly at the bitter taste. " Look, if this is about Rachel's impromptu Streisand medley - " he starts with a laugh, but the mirth drops off when he catches the look on her face.

" I met with Tina Cohen-Chang and Mike Chang yesterday."

His feels his stomach drop. " Tell me she isn't pregnant."

She shakes her head, vehemently, and only then does his heart stagger back to the beat. He's not sure he could go through another babygate. Rubbing his forehead with his hand, relieved, he watches as she licks her lips. " They're bright kids," she offers up, tentatively, and he can't help but smile.

" Two of the brightest," he agrees, picking up a cookie and taking a healthy bite.

She nods her head, ticking things off on her fingers as she mentions them. " They both have 4.0 GPAs, take a full class load including AP, they got great marks on their SATs and take part in a bunch of extra-curricular activities," she tells him.

Schue, knowing all this, simply nods his head. " They're good kids," he agrees.

" Tina's bright, articulate, talented. She'd be a great candidate for an Ivy League school."

" No argument there."

" And I'm *sure* there are courses out there for someone with Mike's talents."

" Absolutely."

There's a pause, and then Emma asks slowly, " Do you know their main criteria for college is one that they can both get into? That Tina isn't even looking at Harvard and Mike's not interested in Julliard? That the only colleges they're looking at are ones that will accept both of them?"

Schue chews his cookie, washing it down with a swallow of coffee. He raises an eyebrow. " So what? I'm sure there are lots of colleges that'll want to take them. Like you said, they're great students."

Emma nods her head, her earrings bobbing and sparkling in the mid-morning sun. " Yeah, I'm sure there are. All I'm saying is...eighteen is pretty young to hang all your dreams - and your future - on one other person."

" I don't really think - " he rejoins, surprised at her words, but she cuts him off, her voice firm but gentle.

" All I'm saying is I've seen this happen before. Bright kids with a lot of potential...it's easy to think you're in love when you're a teenager. But...they focus on the relationship at a time when they should be focusing on themselves, and five years down the line they're still stuck in this town, married with kids and wondering what happened to their dreams."

Mr Schue rubs his eyes, feeling exhaustion creep over him, settling in the tips of his fingers and the soles of his feet, leaving them heavy and cold. " I think Tina and Mike are smarter than that," he sighs, his voice quiet, but he can already feel the little seed of doubt niggling in his belly.

Across from him, Emma tucks her hands under her thighs and nods her head. " Well I think so too," she agrees, her voice steady as she pins him with a look, her eyes wide. " But it wouldn't hurt for you to sit them down and talk to them."

Raising his hands, he makes a t-shape, leaning back in his chair. " Hang on, isn't that *your* job?"

" Yes," she responds contritely. " But they're both very private kids and you're closer to them. Besides..." she trails off, breaking her eye contact and looking vaguely uncomfortable as she cocks her head to one side. " You...married your High School sweetheart."

He scoffs, almost without thought. " And look how that turned out."

" Exactly." Her words are pointed, and she once again raises her eyes to meet his. Her meaning hits home like a sledgehammer. " Please, just sit them down and talk to them. Make sure they know exactly how much they could be compromising."

Picking up his coffee cup, he looks back down at his sheet music, signalling an end to the conversation. " I'll try."

Nodding, she stands up from the chair, smoothing her skirt down with her hands. Her voice, when she speaks, is soft. " Thank you."

She walks out of the staffroom, and with a sigh, he watches her go.

XxX

The Jazz Band is already in position as everyone files in, Kurt and Rachel there ahead of the rest of the club. They're both dressed in black bottoms - Rachel's skirt typically short, her socks over the knee, and Kurt's jeans molded to his body - and Rachel's argyle sweater is complimented by Kurt's gray vest, buttoned over a white shirt. They stand, facing away from the risers, clearly all ready for their performance.

Santana slides into the seat at the back of the room, crossing her bare legs and eying the two performers at the front. As the other members of Glee club take their seats around her, chair legs scraping and scuffing against the floor, she cocks her head and stares hard at Kurt and Rachel's back. " If they sing a love song I'm calling bullshit."

Walking past her, Mercedes scoffs, " Oh please, talk about two dogs going after the same bone. I'm sitting at the back to avoid the bloodshed."

" Yeah, seriously," Puck agrees, taking the free seat next to Santana. " These two have some twisted 'separated at birth/freaky twin' thing. It's weird. Seriously, sometimes I think I've made out with Kurt."

Everyone is laughing into their hands as Sam enters the room. He walks past the two performers at the front and does a double take. Speaking in a low voice, he clenches both fists, bringing his knuckles together. " With our powers combined, we are - DIVATRON!"

He takes the seat next to Mercedes, who rolls her eyes but wears a wide, amused smile.

Brittany flips her ponytail over her shoulder. " My birth control is divatron."

Tina and Quinn giggle, and Mike shoots her a fond look, and Santana whispers in Brittany's ear, a finger teasing the edge of her red Cheerios skirt.

" Good afternoon everybody," Mr Schue greets with a large smile, as everyone settles in, Mike at the back next to Brittany and Santana, and Tina down the front by Puck and Quinn, their conversations trailing off as the pre-performance tension mounts. " So far this week we have had Finn and Puck rocking us old school and Miss Santana Lopez breaking out of the box for two fantastic performances," he reminds them, and everybody cheers and whoops, spirits high. Tina shoots a smile behind her to where Santana sits, her palms raised, basking in the glory. Mr Schue waves his hands to quiet them again. " Today," he begins, indicating the two people behind him, " I am turning things over to our very own Kurt Hummel and Rachel Berry!"

Rachel turns around, her skirt flaring out around her knees. " I know lots of us have been thinking about the future and it's kind of scary," she begins, licking her lips, her hands smoothing down her sweater absentmindedly.

" As scary as Finn's dancing," Puck pipes up from the audience, leaning back and chucking his friend on the knee, the taller boy taking the ribbing in good spirits. He punches Puck back and everyone laughs.

Kurt turns, slowly, gracefully, and cocks one hip, hand resting at his waist. " While clinging to the metaphorical apron strings of home may be the safe option," he begins, his voice smooth and light, " Rachel and I agree - yes, I said agree - that the future is bright for all of us."

" It's a new start," she chimes in, nodding her head with fervor, bobbing on her toes. " A chance to keep all the best bits of ourselves and throw away the parts we don't like."

" Or the mistakes we've made."

There's a moment where everyone seems to consider this, and heads hang, just slightly.

" But we should be excited!" Rachel says, and the spirit in her voice seems to rub off on the group, because the tension that only a moment ago hung over them all starts to dissipate. " We all have *so much* to look forward to."

Kurt's smiling down at her, fondly, and it's almost absurd. He picks up her thread. " We wanted to share something - upbeat," he tosses out. There's a look in his face that says he knows his words are a little cheesy, but he's proud to say them none-the-less.

Tina leans into Quinn's side. " My money's on Spring Awakening."

" Five bucks says Wicked."

Puck, eavesdropping, stage whispers as he leans across Quinn's lap. " What's that one where they all dress like cats?"

Quinn shoots him a frown, pushing him away from her, though her hands linger on the shoulder of his letter jacket. " Why would they sing something from Cats?"

His eyebrows rise and he tosses back, " It's Hummel and Berry - why *wouldn't* they sing something from Cats?"

It looks like Quinn's about to reply, but then the band starts, and Rachel spins around, and it's *far* from Broadway.

" I am unwritten, can't read my mind, I'm undefined."

Kurt saunters from his place by the piano, taking the next line. " I'm just beginning, the pen's in my hand, ending unplanned."

The two of them stand, face to face as they sing, harmony weaving in and out and around the room in perfect timbre. Smiles light their faces. " Staring at the blank page before you, open up the dirty window, let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find. Reaching for something in the distance, so close you can almost taste it, release your inhibitions - feel the rain on your skin!"

Rachel starts jumping as the band rocks the tempo, her hair flying behind her. Kurt looks on, laughing and singing at the same time, and it's the first time in a long time he's looked so honestly *happy* and carefree that everyone in the audience can't help but share a look.

" No one else can feel it for you, only you can let it in. No one else, no one else can speak the words on your lips! Drench yourself in words unspoken, live your life with arms wide open. Today is where your book begins, the rest is still unwritten."

It's so uptempo, so completely and utterly *joyous* that the rest of the Glee club can't stay in their seats. They grab each others' hands, everyone getting up and running down the steps to the floor, and then they're all dancing and singing and Quinn and Tina are holding hands, spinning around and it makes them laugh hard and Mike's watching them with a grin, and then Santana dips Brittany, and Finn joins in, half moshing half jumping, his frankenteen head bobbing above all of them. In the middle of the throng, Kurt and Rachel keep singing, their arms wrapped around each others' waist, heads close together and mirrored, wide smiles.

" The rest is still unwritten."

XxX

They're all trailing out of the choir room, Rachel's arm still wrapped around Kurt's waist as they exit, their heads close together and giggling, and Mike and Tina walk behind them, hands joined and swinging between their bodies, her face turned up his as they talk. They're just passing the piano when Mr Schue calls their names, and they still their feet.

" Tina? Mike? Can I talk to you two for a minute?"

Artie and Quinn shoot them curious looks as they shuffle past, the last ones to gather their things and leave, and they move quickly when they sense the vibe in the room. Mr Schue points towards his office. " Come and sit down."

They follow him silently, hands still together and fingers intertwined, and drop into the two empty chairs facing his desk. Mr Schuester sits down, moving a pile of half-marked Spanish tests to the side, before coughing lightly and looking at the two of them. There is a long silence.

" Mr Schue?" Mike starts, hesitant, " Are we in trouble? Because the Janitor's Closet was totally Tina's idea."

" Mike!" her voice is indignant and sharp in the quiet room.

" Well it was," he shoots back, his voice a stage whisper, a blush creeping over his cheeks.

She crosses her arms over her black-sweater clad chest, causing her beads to swing. " Well if Mr Ryerson hadn't been creeping behind the bleachers..." she trails off, raising one eyebrow and looking at Mike pointedly. " After last time when we found him watching, I really don't like the way he looks at you."

Mr Schue throws his hands in the air, cutting the conversation short, saving himself from hearing any further details, though the snippets are enough to cause an uncomfortable array of mental images. " It's not about the Janitor's Closet - I don't even want to *know* about the Janitor's Closet."

They both duck the chins down in mutual apology. " Sorry," they chime in unison.

Their teacher rubs a hand over his forehead, a little unsure of where to begin. " I had a talk with Miss Pillsbury this morning." He doesn't miss the look that passes between his two students. " She asked me if I'd talk to you both."

It's Tina who looks him in the eye, her tone confused, if a little wary. " About what?"

" Look," he folds his hands on the table between them, studying the two dark-eyed students, who look back at him with matching expressions of unease. " You two are *just* eighteen. You can't imagine all the paces that you're going to go, or the things you're going to see."

" Okay..." Mike's word is low, drawn out, and he shares a quick glance with Tina, who looks equally bemused.

" *Or*," Mr Schue emphasizes, looking pointedly at their linked hands, " The people you're going to meet."

They seem to realise his intent at once. Bemusement and confusion are quickly replaced by irritation. " Mr Schue - " Mike begins, his tone firm and set, and Mr Schue has to jump in quickly, feeling the situation tense.

" I'm not saying you two aren't a great couple," he assures them - because as far as Glee club goes, with more partner swapping than a square dance, Tina and Mike are as solid as they come. " I'm just saying...maybe planning your whole lives around each other now, when you're so young is..." he trails off, for a moment, and when he speaks again, he can't help but keep his voice soft. It feels like a low blow. " Setting yourselves up for disappointment."

He sees the moment the words hit home; Mike's face falls and Tina's shoulders slump.

" Look," he tries again, keeping his voice gentle, hoping upon hope that this kind of tough love will prove to be a good thing. " All I'm saying is, I married my High School sweetheart, and you both were around to see how that turned out." Mike and Tina share a look, and something knowing and terrified shoots across their eyes. " I want you to learn from my mistakes, so you don't have to make the same ones."

There's a long pause, as neither of the teenagers seem to know how to reply. They sit, stock still, until Tina crumples and begins to cry, softly. Mike puts his arm around her, slowly rubbing her back and murmuring soothing words into her hair.

" You can go," Schue tells them with a flick of his wrist, and watches as Mike guides Tina up, their bodies in constant contact. They leave the office in silence, save Tina's tiny sobs.

From the other side of the desk, Mr Schue feels like his work is done, and can't help wonder why he feels so bad.

XxX

" Mr Schuester said *what*!" Mercedes' voice carries through the halls as she speaks on her cellphone, silver 'M' pendant clinking against her jacket zipper as she walks.

Santana's voice on the other end is just as contrite. " For real - I didn't believe it when Brit told me."

Brittany, walking alongside Santana, speaks into her own phone as their joined pinkies swing between them. " He said he might call their parents. Tina's so sad she hasn't even combed her hair and I'm pretty sure she copied my answers in Bio."

Mercedes is just about to speak when her phone buzzes against her ear. " Hang on, I have Kurt buzzing in." She pulls the phone away accepting his call with a swift, " You heard?"

" Artie just told me. Is this why Mike looks like someone just killed his puppy?"

" They might as well have," Santana replies, frustration clearly evident in her tone. " Talk about a low blow."

" I didn't know Mike had a puppy," Brittany chirps up, but is met by a simple side-glance from Santana.

Mercedes is just heading down the stairs when she hears her name being called, and she slows her steps as Sam and Puck catch up to her. " We heard," Puck growls, loud enough to be heard over everyone's phone. " And I am *not* down with people messing with my Asian Fusion."

" Seriously," Sam adds, leaning into Mercedes, " I asked Mike if he wanted to go to the arcade after school, play some DDR. You know what he said?" There's a pause as all of the listening members hold their phones just a fraction closer, and Sam takes a beat. " He said 'I don't really feel like dancing'."

There's a collective intake of breath, and Santana throws her hands up in the air. " That's it, I'm calling it," she states, her voice hard and fierce. " This is now an official Glee-mergency."

" I suggest an intervention," Kurt pipes up as he strides down the hall, meeting Santana and Brittany at the bottom of the stairs, followed only a second later by Mercedes, Puck and Sam. They all flip their phones shut.

" Agreed," Santana confirms, and Brittany nods along. " But we better get thinking because Barbara is *not* gonna cut it this time."

XxX

The Cohen-Chang house is homely and warm, full of squashy over-stuffed furniture and piles of books, photographs and hand-made afghans. Tina is sitting flipping through a magazine, her legs snuggled under one of the multicoloured blankets, bare toes peeking out under the edge and wiggling in the dim light, and her mind miles away when the front door opens and footsteps sound in the hall.

" Tina, sweetie I'm home! I wish you'd come to class with me today - we had live nudes, you would have loved it. We were working with chalks, and honestly, the shadowing on some of these pictures was just fantastic..."

Gloria Cohen-Chang hangs up her coat, khaki cigarette pants and patterned sweater meeting at her skinny hips, long dark curls trailing down her back. She slings her purse onto the floor and toes off her shoes, entering into the living room, her cheeks flushed pink with the evening chill.

" Mrs Ling asked after you hon, she says it's been too long since she's seen you down at the community centre." Entering the room, she pushes her hair back from her face and spots her teenage daughter curled up on the sofa, her eyes downcast and her body curled in on itself, half-heartedly turning the pages of Cosmo. " Honey," she asks swiftly, cocking one hip and looking at her with concern. " What's wrong?"

It's her mother's direct question and no-nonsense attitude that prompts Tina to sigh, shutting the magazine and tossing it on the coffee table without a second glance. " I had my Careers meeting with Miss Pillsbury."

" The guidance counselor?" Her mom takes a seat on the arm of the couch, her attention focused completely on her daughter.

Tina nods. " Yeah."

" How did it go?"

Shoulders shrug, but Tina's mom can read her like a book and Tina knows it, so she forces herself to elaborate. " She thinks I'm throwing away my future."

Gloria's face screws up in instant consternation. " *What*?" She moves onto the sofa, properly, so that her khaki-clad knee brushes with her daughter's bare skin. " What would make her say that?"

Tina can feel a lump already forming in her throat, and she bites her lip trying to force it away. Her next words are almost a non-sequitar, and seem to tumble from her lips like hot coals. " Do you think I should be looking at other colleges? Without Mike?"

There's a pause, and Gloria rests her hand on Tina's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. " Is that what *you* want to do?" she asks, gently, her voice calm and even and without even a trace of bias.

Tina's voice is small. " I don't know."

Curling her legs up beneath her, Gloria turns her body so she and her daughter are sitting knee-to-knee, unconsciously mirroring each others' position, full of angles and points. " Tina, honey, have you changed your mind about going away to school with Mike?"

" No." The words are definite, and immediate, and coupled with a shaking of Tina's dark head. " I want to go with him."

" Then why do you think you should be looking at places without him?"

She raises her fist and rubs at her eyes, and props her cheek on her knee, weary and tired. Tina sighs. " Miss Pillsbury and Mr Schue both think that if Mike and I go to college together then we're going to end up trapped and unhappy."

" Is that what you think?"

" No." Tina shakes her head again, and a loose piece of hair trails down her shoulder, tickling her pale skin. " I think if we go to college together we'll...go to college together. And we'll make new friends, and study, and have fun and if...if for some reason along the way I stop loving him or he stops loving me, then we'll still have fun, and we'll still make new friends, and we'll still study. We just won't do it together any more."

At these words, Gloria breaks into a small smile, reaching out and pulling her daughter to her. She wraps her arms around Tina and cradles her to her chest like she used to when she was a small child. " You've given yourself your answer Tina," Gloria tells her daughter, stroking her hair back from her face and pressing a kiss to her temple. " In the end, this is your decision and it's Mike decision, and it's really no one's business but yours."

" I just..." Tina starts off, before pausing and sighing deeply. " They're my teachers, and you're my Mom."

" I am responsible for you," Gloria tells her with a soft smile, " but I don't have ownership of you Tina. And neither do Mr Schuester or Miss Pillsbury. You're 18 years old, and you can make your own decisions, and part of my job as a parent - and theirs as your teachers - is trusting you to make the best ones you can. Your father and I raised you right - you're a smart girl and you've got a good head on your shoulders." She squeezes Tina's skull in a way that makes the young girl yelp with laughter, ducking out of her mother's grip for a moment before being pulled back into a hug. " I don't expect you to get your choices right every time. And of course I'm going to be here if things go wrong, or if you need me. But I'm not going to tell you how to live your life Tina. You want to go to UCLA and be with Mike? Fine. As long as you can justify your choices to yourself you don't have to justify them to me. And as long as you can say to yourself that you're doing your best, working your hardest, and doing everything you can to make yourself happy, then I support you."

Tina snuggles against her mom's shoulder, enjoying the warmth of her body, the familiar smell of her perfume, the feel of her fingers stroking gently through her hair. " Thank you Mom," she murmurs, squeezing tight. " I needed to hear that."

Her mom squeezes back. " Mike's a good boy. He's sensible, he works hard, he's respectful, and he treats you right. If I thought for even a moment that he was making you compromise yourself, your beliefs or the things that you wanted out of your life, then I would want you to sit down and talk to him, and really consider if this was the right move for you. But...I trust you Tina. And as long when you're with him, you're happy and safe, then I'm okay with that."

The two women sit, silence pervading, and they hold each other in the evening dim.

XxX

It's Thursday, and the choir room is thick with near-end-of-week weariness but buzzing with the close proximity of the weekend. It's a heady mix. Kurt and Santana are rock-paper-scissoring for something in the back row, feet propped on the chairs in front, and Brittany is walking Finn through some of their newest choreography as Rachel watches on, occasionally throwing in comments or running to adjust Finn's arm or leg position. Mercedes and Quinn sit gossiping, their heads close together and giggles occasionally sneaking out, and Artie and Puck are lazily tossing a football across the room.

Tina sits amongst them but alone, checking her phone, wondering exactly where her boyfriend has disappeared to. She's not too concerned because Sam is missing too, and considers that maybe they had gotten caught up in one of their bromatic forays - lifting weights in the gym or studying in the library - and forgotten the time. Her fingers are just itching to text him when finally she sees a flash of dark hair and a flash of blond go skidding past the door, and Mike and Sam finally enter.

Sam's guitar is slung over his shoulder. " Are we late?"

Tina shakes her head, pointing towards the closed office door. " Mr Schuester's just talking with Kate Atkins. Apparently her dog really *did* eat her homework."

" I heard they had to take him for emergency surgery or something," Mercedes pipes up, pulling away from Quinn long enough to interject into the conversation.

Brittany - having finished practicing with Finn - stretches her leg, lifting it parallel to her body in a feat that makes Tina ache just watching. " My cat ate my retainer once," she grins, knee next to her ear.

Finn has just turned around to respond when Mr Schue finally exits his office, awkwardly patting the sobbing red-head on the shoulder. " Well tell your little brother I hope Rex gets better soon," he comforts in platitudes, waiting until the girl leaves the room before turning around and clapping his hands together. " Okay, so it's the end of our week, the end of our lesson, I want to talk about what you think you've learned."

They're all mulling it over, when a hand being raised in Tina's peripheral vision catches everyone's attention.

" Mr Schue? Is it...I mean...would it be...Can I share something?"

There's a moment where everyone pauses, and turns their head, as though they've heard something that can't possibly be real. Because it's Mike, hand raised, half stood from his seat, and Mike *never* offers to share with the group on his own.

It takes the teacher a moment to recover. " Sure Mike, go ahead." He opens his palm towards the floor, and just steps back as Mike gives a small nod to Sam, and the two boys walk down the risers.

Everyone's expecting a dance - some kind of contemporary free-style, or athletic, acrobatic popping-and-locking - so they're doubly surprised when both Sam and Mike pull stools in front of the piano and sit down.

Tina's watching, unable to take her eyes off her boyfriend because she has *no* idea what's going on and he truly looks like he might pass out or throw up any moment. She wants to go up there, take his hand, kiss him until he stops looking so terrified, but she's frozen to her seat.

Mike clears his throat. " Uh..." he begins, and his voice is soft, but even. " Our assignment this week was to think about the future, about growing up. And a lot of people have told me that it's a time to be selfish - to think about myself." He side-eyes Mr Schue at this point, who at least has the good graces to rock uncomfortably on his heels. Mike's voice gets stronger. " But when I imagine the future there's really only one thing that matters." He pauses, shrugging his shoulders slightly, a blush darting across his cheeks. " This is for you, Tina."

He still looks like he might faint or vomit, but Sam gives him a firm, reassuring nod, and begins to play, his fingers firm on the chords and rhythm. When Mike opens his lips, his voice is nervous but strong.

" We'll do it all, everything, on our own. We don't need anything or anyone."

Everyone's mouths are hanging open, shocked, because they've *never* heard Mike sing, not really, not beyond genial harmony lines and car-radio-gym-shower singing. And he's not amazing but he's *good*, he's *really* good, and his eyes are boring into Tina's as though he's afraid to look anywhere else. As though it's only the two of them in the room.

" If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?"

She feels it then, like a punch to the sternum. This is *his* decision. This is *Mike* making his stand against other people's expectations, and telling her that he chooses her over everyone else and everything else, despite other people's opinions. Tina's heart races, hard and thrumming, and she feels tears prick at the corners of her eyes as he continues to sing.

" I don't quite know how to say how I feel. Those three words are said too much - they're not enough."

Mike's blushing, but staring at her, and she knows he's remembering every time they've said those 'three little words' to each other, from the first time (in the wake of Kurt's father's heart attack and Tina's " You never know when it's going to be too late to tell people how you really feel" - followed by her arms flying around his neck and the words being murmured against his lips. " I'm falling in love with you Mike.") to the most recent (that morning, on the phone as she queried the bite-mark-shaped bruise she had just discovered on her inner thigh, Mike had responded with laughter and distraction - " I love you so much T.").

" All that I am, all that I ever was, is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see. I don't know where, confused about how as well, just know that these things will never change for us at all."

They've talked about about the future, about college and beyond. They've talked about him moon-walking into their wedding, and he's promised Brittany that she can be a bridesmaid and how their first dance should be something awesome and epic. The phrase " When we have kids" has slipped from both their lips, and when they talk about proposals and marriage it's always a 'when' and not an 'if'. But having him sit before her - in front of their teacher, in front of all their friends, in front of the family they've *chosen* - and sing these words and this song to her...well, for Tina, and she knows for Mike, he might have got down on one knee and held out a diamond ring.

She doesn't even notice herself moving, but by the time he sings the final line - " Would you lie with me and just forget the world?" - she's on her feet, and standing right before him. Their eyes are locked, and as the last note trails off, she leans into him, pressing their lips together hard.

The rest of the glee club is silent - still shocked, and aware that there is *so* much more going on than just a simple song - and so when Tina and Mike pull away from each other, no one moves. Tina simply takes his hand, tugs him off the seat, and pulls him behind her as she walks out of the room.

After they exit, the stunned silence remains

Mr Schue clears his voice. " Oookay," he stands up, and his eyebrows are up in his hairline. " Anyone else?"

The rest of the club shake their heads, slowly, still processing.

" Okay then," he says, rubbing his forehead, full of thoughts and feelings, whirring and making him feel unbalanced. " You can go."

Santana leans forward, her hand on Quinn's shoulder as she picks up her bag. " I take it we should avoid the library?"

Quinn nods. " And the art supply cupboard on the third floor."

" The girls' bathroom by the Science classrooms," Mercedes adds, grasping her notebook.

" Behind the bleachers," Sam adds, and then off the girls' looks adds, " What? Mike's my bro."

Puck, with a crooked grin, adds, " The locker room."

" Yeah," Finn adds with a shudder, hands shoved into his pockets. " That's not something I need to see again."

They all seem to be having the same thought, and Santana pauses, her fingers threading with Brittany's. " Anyone else just want to go get coffee? Come back when we get the all clear?"

The nods are unanimous, and they all leave the choir room together.

Mr Schue sits at the piano, and hangs his head.

XxX

The next day in the staff room, Schue sits over a stack of papers, a cold cup of coffee in front of him and the events of the week playing over and over in his head like a video on a loop. He sighs, throwing his pen across the table.

" Mr Schue?" Puck's leaning against the door frame, mohawk still damp from a shower and a strange expression on his face. Somewhere between mischievous and serene.

" Hey Puck, what can I do for you? Your Spanish assignment isn't due til next week."

Puck shrugs his shoulders, hands sliding into the pocket of his jeans, backpack slung over his shoulder. " Rachel told me to tell you to come to the auditorium after school. And I ain't nobody's messenger boy, but she scares the crap out of me, you know?"

Mr Schuester sits, bemused, and finally nods his head. " Tell her I'll be there," he agrees.

" Sweet," Puck lifts his chin. " Oh, and do you think Miss Pillsbury would be down to come along too?"

" I can ask her."

" Cool. Later Mr Schue."

" Bye Puck."

XxX

The auditorium is dim but the stage is lit. The members of Glee Club sit along the edge, their feet dangling over, all with various accents of red in their outfits, looking out at Mr Schuester and Miss Pillsbury with curiosity clear across their faces, because on entering he had called them together and said that before anything else, he wanted to talk. Mike and Tina sit next to each other, sides pressed together, his hand resting somewhere behind her back.

Standing before them, Mr Schue takes a quick glance sideways, to where Miss Pillsbury sits in one of the fold-down seats, and takes a breath. " I should apologise," he starts off, his voice soft. " Right now, you all have the world unfolding at your feet. And where you want to go, what you want to do, and *who* you want to do it with, that's up to you now." He sees Mike and Tina share a look, and watches as she rests her head on her boyfriend's shoulder. Mr Schue feels a smile cross his lips. " You are amazing young men and women and you have been through so much together. And I want to thank you, for letting me share in a small part it."

All the glee kids share a look - part acceptance, part amusement - and then with a clap of her small hands, Rachel hops up on the stage.

" Mr Schuester, we all accept your apology and in the spirit of reconciliation we have prepared a little something."

At her words, everyone gets up and walks across the stage until they are in clearly choreographed positions. Mr Schue takes a seat next to Miss Pillsbury right as the lights go down, and it's pitch black for a moment before a single spot-light flicks on, bathing a lone person in clean, white light.

In a simple red dress, her hair hanging down her back and a small smile on her painted lips, Tina looks much more grown then her 18 years. Her voice, when she sings, is clear and ringing and pure. " There are places I'll remember, all my life though some have changed. Some forever not for better, some have gone and some remain."

The lights come up, and the whole group stands scattered across the stage, arm's width apart.

Artie and Quinn come forward so that they are either side of Tina, and add their voices into the mix. " All these places had their moments, with lovers and friends I still can recall. Some are dead and some are living, in my life I've loved them all."

The choreography begins, as the kids pair up in twos. Mike comes along side Tina, spinning her around with his hands on her hips as the two of them sing. " But of all these friends and lovers, there is no one compares with you and these memories lose their meaning, when I think of love as something new."

As the whole group begins to sing, the music soars and the emotions in the room swell. In the audience, tears prick at Mr Schue's eyes, and Miss Pillsbury reaches over, resting a hand on his forearm. In the darkness, they share a look of mutual understanding.

" Though I know I'll never lose affection for people and things that went before, I know I'll often stop and think about them. In my life I love you more."

The New Directions stand in a line, staring out into an empty audience, voices raised together.

In the centre, Mike reaches across and laces his fingers with Tina's.

" In my life I love you more."

XxX


End file.
